<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>In which: Dhar has a bad day by alethela</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376231">In which: Dhar has a bad day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alethela/pseuds/alethela'>alethela</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Indivisible (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Capitalism sucks, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, dhar is ajnas older brother because i said so, except for indr, hes doing his best, ravannavar is jeff bezos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alethela/pseuds/alethela</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Dhar is a twenty-year-old college student. Ajna is his younger tenth-grade sister. Their adoptive father is recently dead, and Dhar is taking care of a hot-blooded rebellious teen by himself. Shenanigans ensue.<br/>OR:<br/>please for the love of god get these kids some therapy</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In which: Dhar has a bad day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>No warnings yet but like, Rens going to be involved at some point and i will make everything gay. As the Final Pam once said,<br/>i take a hammer and fix the canon<br/>i love u dhar</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dhar Khatri dreamed of falling. It was a recurring dream since he had had since childhood; a launch upwards, a blast, a fall, oblivion. Each time, he woke up covered in sweat, heart in his throat, sheets clenched in his fist.</p><p>When he was a child, his nightmares sent him into his father’s room, and could only fall back asleep with Indr’s snoring in his ears. Dhar dreamed of falling. And, like every time before, he woke up with terror hammering at his chest. These days, however, he could no longer go to his father for help.</p><p>He squinted his eyes at the quiet filtering in through the blinds. He was hunched over his desk, his bed unslept in across his bedroom. The textbook he was using as a pillow peeled off his cheek as he sat up, slowly, stiff back complaining with the movement. Strewn before him was notes from his classwork, clustered together with a half-empty glass of water and a coffee mug that had taken up permanent residence in his workspace. He could see the exact moment where he had fallen asleep; he had been writing down an observation on the effectiveness of certain political advertisements in campaigns when his handwriting, already the visual equivalent of drink-slurred speech, trailed right off the page.</p><p>He rubbed at tired eyes and pushed himself away from his desk. The light from his blinds told him that it was already morning, and he had places to be. He always had places to be.</p><p>Dhar made his way out into the kitchen of his cramped, shared apartment. Predictably, it was empty. No matter how late he stayed up, he always seemed to be the first one awake. With a yawn he didn’t bother to hide, he switched on the coffee machine and went to wake up his younger sister. He rapped lightly on her door. “Ajna,” he called. “Don’t you have school today?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>So be it.</p><p>He opened the door and slipped into her tiny room. It was dim, her old curtains closed firmly against the morning sun. The walls were adorned with photos of herself and her friends: there was one of her and Razmi, an older student who seemed to like nobody else (and certainly not Dhar); there was one of her laughing with Ginseng and Nuna after clearing an escape room; there was even a small one of her with Dhar, riding on his shoulders just because she could. These photos were interspersed with anime posters and a few medals from her old martial arts tournaments, sprawled out without any real order.</p><p>In fact, there was only one photo that was framed, and it stood on her bedside table. It was a photo of their adoptive father, Indr, standing with one arm around each of his children. The photo was taken when they were younger- Ajna was four, sporting a gap-toothed grin, and Dhar was eight, with one arm crossed over his chest like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be in the photo or not. Indr was smiling, in his gruff way.</p><p>Dhar reached out to touch the frame with just the tips of his fingers. Then, he turned and shook the lump under the sheets just to his left. “Ajna. Get up.”</p><p>The lump groaned, and a hand emerged from its depths to swat at him. “Mmmhhgh. No.”</p><p>“If you don’t get up, I’m going to pick you up and carry you out.”</p><p>The sheets rustled, like the person below was shifting to press her hands over her ears. “You can… try.”</p><p>Well, Dhar wasn’t one to go back on his promises.</p><p>So, he tugged the sheets back in a sharp jerk- then, ignoring the squawk of protest that followed, he reached down and picked Ajna up under the armpits before lifting her to her feet.</p><p>“Hey- hey! Dhar! What the fuck!”</p><p>“Language,” he said, and set her down on the cold floor of her bedroom.</p><p>Ajna was small for her sixteen years, with wide, dark eyes and an attitude that gave her a scrappy reputation at school. She was also the most persistent person he knew and he had learned long ago that if he needed her to do something she didn’t want to, he had to force the matter. She was angry, and tough, and physical- and he had cared for her alone in the months since their father’s death. Right now, though, she was just sleepy- and while she frowned at him, it was a frown he was able to easily ignore.</p><p>“Come on.” He crossed his arms. “You have to catch the bus. I’ll make you breakfast.”</p><p>“Fine,” she muttered, and trailed after him out into the kitchen, where she sat at the table while he made himself coffee.</p><p>She looked tired- her hair was a mess, and she kept rubbing at her eyes. Dhar had to stop himself from pinching his lips in sympathy. In a very real way, he knew how she felt.</p><p>“Do you want any coffee?” he asked, as always.</p><p>“No. It’s gross,” she responded, as always.</p><p>Fair enough. He pressed a couple of Pop-Tarts into the toaster and let them defrost, the college student equivalent of making breakfast for his sister.</p><p>“Dhar?” Ajna asked from somewhere behind him.</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“Why do you have writing on your face?”</p><p>He frowned, and quickly ducked out of the kitchen to check the bathroom mirror- sure enough, the ink from his textbook had transferred to his skin, making a vague imprint on his right cheek. “Fuck,” he swore, and scrubbed at it with a cloth.</p><p>“Language!” Ajna yelled from the kitchen.</p><p>Dhar came out with a clean cheek and cuffed her lightly over the head. “Eat your breakfast. Is your backpack ready?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Get it ready.”</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>He frowned, but the look on her face told him that it maybe wasn’t the best time to prod on the issue. Instead, he took a long drag from his coffee and cracked an egg over the stove. “I have a short shift today,” he said instead. “So, I’ll be able to give you a ride home from school.”</p><p>She perked up. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“You’re the best!” Ajna shoved both Pop-Tarts into her mouth and gave him a quick hug, energy seemingly restored. She hurried into her room to get dressed, and Dhar felt a not-unfamiliar well of fondness. Taking care of a rebellious teenager had been hard enough when Indr was… alive… but…</p><p>No. He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that, or else he’d be distracted all day long.</p><p>Dhar dumped his single egg onto a plate, finished his coffee, and set to eating his food before getting dressed for work. </p>
<hr/><p>Ajna managed to get out the door on time for the bus, which was a relief. The school-bus system for Ashwat District had a reputation for keeping rigidly to schedule, and while Dhar was of the opinion that things were best handled on schedule, Ajna in particular had trouble with that concept.</p><p>He left for work a little while after her, getting into his ancient sedan and driving off after wrangling the clutch into submission. Dhar worked as a delivery driver for the Navar Corporation, stationed mostly out of Tai Krung. While the company headquarters was overseas, all deliveries for the online shipping and delivery service in the greater Sumeru area ran from Tai Krung. Warehouse space was cheaper there; unlike the Iron township or Maerifa port, nobody had to pay much to live in Tai Krung. Dhar would have rented an apartment there himself, if Ajna hadn’t grown up in Ashwat and if he wasn’t concerned about her getting involved with its seedier crowd.</p><p>He passed over a highway bridge, window open and hand tapping along to Zahra, an old, classic musician, with one of Indr’s old CDs loaded faithfully into the drive. Before Indr’s death, Ajna had always made fun of him for listening to ‘dad music’. After his death, she listened to it in the car without complaint. ‘The Sound of Silence’ accompanied him as he drove down the highway, and for a few minutes, he had peace.</p><p>The song ended just as he pulled into the company parking lot. Corrugated steel rose before him, the sight of one of the Navar warehouses a sun-blotting view. He could almost see misery hanging around it in a miasma, like the rust spots on its walls.</p><p>He pressed his lips together. Then, he exited his car, gave it a pat on the roof, and headed to the staff entrance to clock in to work.</p><p>Zebei, one of his coworkers, was already clocking in inside. The man was tall and dark-haired, with a hawkish nose and whippet body. He nodded at Dhar as he entered. “Long night?” he asked with his low voice.</p><p>Dhar rubbed under his eyes, feeling the weary bags in his skin. “Yeah,” he murmured. “More or less.”</p><p>“Schoolwork?”</p><p>“Nightmare. Both.”</p><p>“Mm.” Zebei turned away. Though Dhar could tell he was sympathetic, he wasn’t really one for voicing it. “You tried melatonin? It helps Kushi, sometimes.”</p><p>Dhar just grunted and punched in, just as the clock turned from 7:59 to 8:00. “Tried it, but it isn’t very helpful when you’re trying not to fall asleep.”</p><p>“Fair enough.” Zebei pulled a cap off a hook, fitting it over his hair. “Have a good shift, then.”</p><p>The inside of the warehouse was vast, and sparsely lit. It contained everything ordered by Navar customers in the Sumeru area over the past few days, packaged in cardboard and sequestered in organizational shelves. It reminded Dhar a little bit of that one warehouse from Indiana Jones, which he vaguely remembered watching with Indr on late-night television. The floor was concrete, and the walls were the same uninsulated steel as the outside of the warehouse, punctured by just a few uncleaned windows. By the cargo doors were several wood pallets, already loaded up with his delivery items for the day; a worker was on standby with a forklift, waiting for Dhar to bring his van around.</p><p>He sighed, and rubbed at his eyes again, and got to work.</p>
<hr/><p>The day passed in monotony. Exhaustion dragged at his motions, but practice kept him going. There was a rhythm; drive to one location, drop off their package, ring their doorbell, get back into his van and check his navigator for the next address. Repeat ad infinitum.</p><p>When he started his job, he remembered trying to take in the sights around him. It was a job that took him all over Sumeru, from the Ashwat suburbs to the Tai Krung nightlife to Maerifa port and its university and clean, white lines. He had chatted with his customers, sometimes, and had tried to foster a relationship with his coworkers even though most of his work was done alone.</p><p>Now, his work was just terribly lonely. He had to keep this job, though, because they were barely afloat as it was. He was taking courses part-time in the hopes of finding better work; he worked as a delivery driver for Navar during the week and a warehouse night guard on the weekend. Ajna had a job as a shelf stocker at a grocery store chain, and most of her money went to making sure utilities were paid every month.</p><p>Dhar often considered what he would do if child services deemed him an unworthy guardian and tried to take her away. Maybe he could find a baseball bat somewhere- one good swing, and they wouldn’t come back.</p><p>That, of course, was wishful thinking. If he messed up, or endangered Ajna somehow, she'd be taken to a foster home, and he had to grapple with the knowledge that she might even be happier away from an incompetent guardian.</p><p>He finished the rest of his shift, dropping off a stack of packages off in the Lhan quarter at the address of someone with a very oversized dog, and definitely did not waste five whole minutes making sure that dog was as well-petted as possible. It had a little tag around its neck that read ‘Lanshi’, and he decided that he was in love.</p><p>When he got back to the Navar warehouse, his uniform was speckled with dog hair. His movements were slow and tired, legs and back aching from a day lifting and carrying. Zebei pulled in behind him and, while he was punching out, eyed Dhar with something in the vicinity of concern.</p><p>“Hey,” he started. “Looks like you need a break. Want to head out for drinks?”</p><p>Dhar shook his head no. “I don’t drink.”</p><p>“Not old enough, or…?”</p><p>He made a face. “I’m twenty.”</p><p>Zebei shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you around, then.”</p><p>Dhar checked his watch as he left the warehouse- 2:30. Enough time to get to Ajna’s school on time. Her high school was tucked away in Ashwat, and while it was a bit of a drive from Tai Krung, giving her a ride was still faster than making her take the bus. He climbed into his car, thinking about what kind of dinner he could put together with the things they still had in the freezer- and while he did so, his phone rang.</p><p>Ajna’s high school was calling.</p><p>He picked up.</p><p>“<em>Is this Ajna Khatri’s parent or legal guardian?</em>”</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>“Legal guardian,” he replied cautiously. “I’m her older brother.”</p><p>“<em>We regret to inform you that she was involved in an altercation involving another student, resulting in injury. We’re going to need to bring you in for a talk with the principal.</em>”</p><p>Something flared inside of Dhar; an odd mix of anger, frustration, exhaustion, regret. This wasn’t the first time Ajna had gotten into a fight, and it wouldn’t be the last, but…</p><p>For a moment, he just leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, and took a deep breath. Then, he returned the phone to his ear. “I’ll be right there.”</p><p>The drive to her high school passed in a blur, anger and concern battling with each other. His jaw was sore and tight from clenching, shoulders forced down so they didn’t bunch up. He pulled into the high school parking lot and hurried to the principal’s office, passing more than a few high-schoolers that looked at him like they weren’t sure if he was supposed to be there or not.</p><p>When he burst into the principal’s office, Ajna was sitting directly to his right, slumped over in her chair. The skin around her left eye was starting to purple with a bruise, and she had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she was trying to hide. She didn’t look up when he came in. Standing by the reception desk was the principal- a bald older man with a sort of monkish attitude- and a woman he didn’t recognize, anger tightening her lips.</p><p>“Are you her guardian?” she snapped, while, at the same moment, the principal nodded his head.</p><p>“Good to see you, Mr. Khatri.”</p><p>He nodded back before kneeling in front of Ajna, checking in to make sure she was alright. He touched her bruise and she didn’t flinch away- but he could see the muscles in her neck flex as she tightened her jaw.</p><p>“Hey,” he said, maybe a bit more harshly than he would have liked. “What happened here?”</p><p>“What happened,” the woman seethed, “is that your sister assaulted my son. Without provocation! I don’t know how you’ve been raising her, but-“</p><p>“Mrs. Jones,” the principal interrupted, with his unflappable cool. “Mr. Khatri. Please, join me in my office.”</p><p>The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur. Ajna had gotten into a fight with one of her classmates. He had said something to set her off, and she attacked him- while he had managed to hit her in the eye, she was a trained martial artist, and had overpowered him with ease. During the fight, his head had hit the corner of a wall, and he had been sent to the hospital for stitches and concussion treatment.</p><p>She was suspended for seven days.</p><p>
  <em>“Normally,” the principal had said, “this would be grounds for expulsion. She attacked a student, and this is a grave offense. However,” he added, as he watched Dhar stiffen, “I am aware of your home circumstances, as well as the recent loss of your father. Therefore, her punishment will only be suspension.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He slid a piece of paper across the table. “This is the number for a good grief counsellor in the area. I recommend she get treatment, because if this happens again, I will have no choice but to expel her in order to protect the rest of the students here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dhar took it numbly, with the knowledge that he didn’t have the money to pay for therapy, and tucked it into his pocket. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are dismissed,” the principal said, like that solved everything.</em>
</p><p>Minutes later, they sat in the parking lot with the car turned off. Dhar laid both hands on the steering wheel. Ajna slouched beside him, silent, her face sullen and mutinous.</p><p>Heaven help him, but he was not suited for parenting.</p><p>“Ajna,” Dhar started, and fought to keep his voice calm and level. “We’ve talked about this before. No matter what people say, you can’t respond with anger and violence.“</p><p>“Well,” she snapped, “maybe they shouldn’t spout whatever bullshit they want-“</p><p>“<em>Ajna.</em>”</p><p>Anger must have crept into his voice, because she snapped her mouth shut and slumped back in her chair, fuming. Dhar took a long breath, clenching his hands around the steering wheel before he forced them to relax.</p><p>“Listen,” he started. “I know… I know it’s hard. It’s… really hard.” He took a breath. “I miss him too.”</p><p>Ajna said nothing.</p><p>“But this is something you have to work through- and while hurting people might feel better in the moment, it’s not going to help in the long run. This is…” he hesitated. “Dad would have said the same thing, if he were here.”</p><p>“I know,” she muttered, her voice tremendously small. “They just… he just… he said that Dad was lucky he died. Because then he didn’t have to deal with me any longer.”</p><p>Dhar’s breath froze.</p><p>Ajna scrubbed at her face, and he could see how much her shoulders were shaking- a testament to the whirl of emotions contained in a sixteen-year-old body. “He said,” she got out, “that Dad got tired of me. That he didn’t know, when he was adopting me, that he was taking in… a <em>freak</em>.”</p><p>She spat out the last word, like she was trying to hide the way her voice had started to shake.</p><p>Dhar didn’t feel angry any longer. He couldn’t. A very large part of him wanted to hunt down that brat of a high schooler and tell him, in no subtle terms, to stay away from his little sister.</p><p>Ajna peeked up at him, and he caught sight of the bruise around her eye.</p><p>So, he made a decision.</p><p>“… What kind of ice cream do you want?” he asked.</p><p>She blinked, obviously caught off guard. “… What?”</p><p>“Ice cream. What kind.”</p><p>“Chocolate?”</p><p>“Alright.” He twisted the keys and turned the car on. “Let’s get you some ice cream. You’ve earned yourself a treat.”</p><p>And slowly, tentatively, Ajna managed a smile.</p><p>“Thanks, Dhar.”</p><p>She was all he had left, and he was the person she relied on for a home- and so, he was going to be on her side, no matter what came.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>